Holly is a symbol of goodwill and joy. In the Victorian language of flowers, holly means foresight. Holly is seen as a symbol of good luck in both Christianity and Islam. But most importantly for me, it is said that disputes are often solved "under the holly tree"

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Wednesday, March 7, 2007

AMERICAN'S EYEWITNESS REPORT FROM NABLUS

The below letter is written by an American who works with IWPS in Palestine. These are her reflections on the recent IOF crimes in Nablus dubbed "Hot Winter". The story she refers to about Asraf:

IDF arrests caught on tape raise questions on military practices

By The Associated Press

The young Palestinian man was dressed in shorts and a T-shirt on a cold winter morning as he walked in front of heavily armed Israeli soldiers on a door-to-door sweep of three apartments in a crowded West Bank neighborhood.

The scene - caught by an Associated Press news camera - has raised questions about whether the Israeli army is still using Palestinian civilians during military operations, despite an Israeli Supreme Court order barring the practice.

Human rights groups call the tactic a violation of local and international law that places innocent civilians in the line of fire. In its initial reaction to the footage, the Israel Defense Forces said there appeared to be no wrongdoing by its soldiers. In a statement, however, the army pledged it would pursue a thorough inquiry into the case.

I don't know where to begin. It would make sense to start at thebeginning, but the beginning was ages ago, long before I arrived.Nor is there any end in sight. I was plopped into life in Nablus forone short week and I'm not sure if I'll ever recover. And as I writefrom a place of safety, the people of Nablus continue to struggle,not just with the nightly incursions, bombings, and assassinations,but also simply to remember their own humanity in spite of the mostinhumane treatment. I'm trying to rediscover my own, to revive theparts of me now polluted with anger, or worse—shut off, as if a partof me is dead. And I was there for just one week.

We arrived on Sunday to help volunteers from the UPMRC (Union ofPalestinian Medical Relief Committees) deliver food and medicalservices. Dozens of jeeps and hundreds of soldiers had surroundedthe Old City and declared curfew on all of Nablus. Their statedmission was to capture or assassinate eight fighters from Al AqsaMartyr's Brigade, the armed wing of the Fatah movement. Meanwhile,the 40,000 residents of Nablus Old City were trapped in their homes,inside a war zone, unable to go to work or school, or even to buyfood for their families.

According to many families, this invasion posed a greater threatthan those of the past because it was coming on top of an alreadydesperate economic situation caused by the US-led embargo after theHamas elections. Whereas in the past residents would stock up onfood and supplies in case of an invasion, these days people hardlyhave enough to meet their current needs. People are working to buybread for that very day, so the invasion was not only leaving themout of food, but preventing them from going out to make the moneythey needed to buy more.

The Medical Relief volunteers led us into the Old City. Familiescalled to us from windows above the twisted cobbled streets: "Wehave no more food!"; "My baby needs milk!"; "My mother has diabetesand is out of insulin!" As we rounded each corner, we wouldcall, "Internationals! Medical Relief!" knowing soldiers were lesslikely to shoot foreigners breaking curfew than others. Sometimesaround the corner we came face to face with soldiers, their gunspointed at us, jumpy and angry: "GO BACK!" "PUT AWAY YOUR CAMERA!"Often they were holding back large muzzled dogs. My heart wasbeating and knees shaking so fast I was sure I would collapse, butwe followed the Medical Relief volunteers' lead. They were notinterested in challenging the soldiers' actions and authority, justin getting treatment and food to people who needed it. I recognizedthat this is one major difference between direct action solidaritywork and humanitarian aid.

Sometimes the soldiers allowed the doctor and medical volunteersthrough. Often they didn't. As night fell and soldiers refused ourpassage to the hospital, we decided to call it a day and hoped we'dhave more luck in the morning. As we were making our last breaddelivery, eight soldiers walked by our group with one Palestinian.The man spoke quietly as he passed us, and the medical volunteersimmediately relayed to us the message he had given them: "I am beingused as a human shield."

Using civilians as human shields is a serious violation ofinternational law, and we immediately called B'tselem (the IsraeliCenter for Human Rights in the Occupied Territories) and MachsomWatch (Israeli Women who monitor checkpoints but also have a goodknowledge of Israeli Law) to file reports and hopefully help freethe man. One Israeli contact explained that the practice is socommon that we probably couldn't stop it before the man would bereplaced with another, and another after that. We wanted to checkwith the man's family to see if there was anything else we could do,but the Army had blocked off their whole neighborhood.

It was with an intense feeling of helplessness that we checked intothe Crystal Hotel that night, bombs exploding in the Old City nearbyunder a heavy rainstorm. We slept soundly and were woken at 6am bythe jeeps again declaring curfew over loudspeakers through thestreets. We met the medical workers and began making rounds again.Many families needed bread. One child had a broken arm and neededtreatment. Occasionally while we were visiting families, soldierswould barge in with dogs, herd everyone into one room, and searchthe rest of the house. I would try to amuse the children to distractthem, or maybe to distract myself. I tried to imagine what it wouldbe like to have my home raided, my possessions destroyed and made aprisoner in my own home. Most raids ended quickly but some homeswere occupied for days on end. We couldn't get to those dozens offamilies, but heard stories from neighbors and medical workers:

The Dilal family's home was occupied, and twenty people had beenstuffed in one room for almost 48 hours. Among them were two elderlypeople with heart problems, one pregnant woman, and eight smallchildren. The rest of their home had been transformed into amilitary base where soldiers could rest and meet between operations.

The Awad family was also confined to one room of their home whilesoldiers took over the rest of the house. One floor was reportedlytransformed into an intelligence center, another into a prison, andthe basement into a makeshift interrogation center. We had alreadybegun to hear stories from young men returning from interrogation—affectionately referred to as "Hell" in Arabic—while others wentmissing. In alleys we would find men handcuffed and blindfolded,being led into jeeps while soldiers aimed their guns in ourdirection as an unspoken warning against speaking or photographing.I kept my camera hidden, knowing that one Reuters cameraman hadalready had his film taken at gunpoint.

UPMRC volunteers were also starting to disappear, including one manwe'd delivered bread with a few hours before, named Alaa. I'd lastseen him while I was carrying one of two sick children from theclinic back to their home, since their parents could not come getthem. After we'd delivered the kids and were walking away, we heardshooting from close behind us, just beyond the children's house.Within minutes, we learned that an unarmed man had been shot dead onhis roof, and his unarmed 20-year-old son Ashraf's elbow had beenblown off by a dumdum bullet. Soldiers entered the house anddetained young Ashraf, who was in shock. When Dr. Ghassan (fromUPMRC) and Alaa (a volunteer) attempted to enter the home to bringthe father's body down to an ambulance, soldiers detained them both.They held the doctor for several hours and then let him go. Theykept Alaa in custody, saying he "looked suspicious."

Alaa and Ashraf were eventually released and we took their reportsthe next day. Ashraf was in the hospital, surrounded by friends andfamily. The mood was somber, but he agreed to tell us his story:

"On Monday around noon, my dad went up to the roof to check on thewater, which was not working. I sensed some movement outside andthrough the window I saw soldiers. I ran upstairs to warn my dadthat the Army was near, and as I spoke the words a dumdum bullet hitmy right elbow, shattering it. My dad ran towards me to save me.When he looked back towards where the bullet had come from, he wasshot by a sniper in the neck, and then in the head.

"I called for help and tried to give my dad CPR. When the ambulancearrived, it was surrounded by jeeps on all sides and prevented fromreaching our home. The soldiers took me into one of their jeepswhile my father was still bleeding seriously. They held me for anhour and a half before taking me to an ambulance. One soldierbragged that he was the one who shot me and my dad, and followed meto the ambulance in a jeep by himself. My family told me afterwardsthat after the soldiers made sure of my dad's death, they allowedthe medical workers to carry him down."

Ashraf pointed to a smiling picture of his father that hung on thewall opposite his hospital bed. I asked our translator how Ashrafknew CPR, and he explained that Ashraf volunteers as an EmergencyMedical Volunteer, and is the type of person who risks his own lifeto save others. We asked Ashraf if he had a message to the Americanpeople. His response: "We are not terrorists—the soldiers will notfind what they're looking for here. We are civilians, and we want tobe left alone so that we may live."

There was a great deal of misinformation surrounding Ashraf's storyin the mainstream media. Some news sources claimed he and his fatherwere armed; others said they were walking around, breaking curfew. Ivisited the roof, I saw the bloodstains, I spoke to the medicalvolunteers who evacuated them... I invite you to view Ashraf'sinterview yourself (with subtitles!—should be up in a few days),along with other excellent footage available now of the eventsdescribed above atwww.ResearchJournalismInitiative.net/mediaarchive.htm. I also didtwo more interviews on KPFA (Thursday March 1st & today, TuesdayMarch 6th), which you can listen to online:http://www.kpfa.org/archives/index.php?show=9. It is so crucial toget these stories out and I'm grateful for any help from you,especially as the media seems to have moved on from the story. Thisis just the first of several reports by me on the Nablus invasions;Alaa's and others' stories are still to come.